“I do. He has little choice.”
Kiskaddon looked wary still. “No king willingly relinquishes power. Not the Elder King. Not even Bennett. If Jon-Landon doesn’t sign the charter, we’re all doomed. That is, if you’re right about what happens when the Wizr game ends. After what I saw on the bridge today, I have to believe what you said is true.”
Guivret approached the table and stood between them. “It is true,” he said. Something within him had altered, as if the last of Alix’s influence had slithered away. He seemed like his old self again. “I’ve no doubt on that score, my lord.”
Kiskaddon looked at Guivret thoughtfully. “You both have more confidence in the king than I do. But I agree, what else can he do? The charter will change the affairs of the kingdom permanently. If Jon-Landon accepts it, then I’ll unite with him. I need your promise, though, Ransom, that he will not condemn us for treason.”
“You have it,” Ransom answered. “If he signs the treaty, I’ll hold him to it. He sent me here to work out a truce. What we propose is fair.”
“Fair, but he’ll be tempted to tear up the charter after we’ve stabilized the realm.”
“It’s more than words on a page,” Ransom said. “If he agrees, it will bind not only him but all future kings of Ceredigion. It feels right, doesn’t it?”
Kiskaddon sighed. “It does. I’d like to send one of my knights with you, though. To see firsthand how he reacts to the terms. Would you be opposed to me smuggling someone in with your group?”
“Let me go, my lord,” Guivret asked.
Kiskaddon smirked. “You were the one I was thinking of, lad. What do you say, Ransom?”
“I agree.” He gave Guivret a smile. “The deconeus said he’d have the charter ready by dawn. I’ll take my knights to Beestone and gather some of the garrison there to defend the king.”
“How many are left?” Kiskaddon asked.
“Five hundred, I think,” Ransom said. “Many were sent north with Faulkes. If the king signs the treaty, I’ll have him call Faulkes back. You can tell James about the charter. I don’t care how you accomplish it.”
“Well enough. Dawn will be here soon, and we both need some rest to prepare for what’s ahead. My knights are guarding the docks that haven’t burned. I’ll see you in the morning before you leave.”
They gave each other a knightly salute, and Ransom left the audience hall and found his way to his bedchamber, which had been cleared for his arrival. He lay down in his clothes, his mind weary, and fell asleep in moments.
The next morning, a messenger from the sanctuary arrived with the news that the charter was finished and ready for inspection. Ransom and Kiskaddon ate together and then rode down to the bridge with the rest of Ransom’s knights and Guivret. The deconeus met them at the gate and, with a solemn look, lifted the long round leather case he held.
“This is the charter, my lord. I’ve never written such a document before. It requires the king’s seal to be valid, which he keeps with him. After he has approved it, it will become the law of the land.”
The deconeus undid the cap and took out the charter, which had been written on parchment instead of paper. That would help it last longer. As he unrolled the document, Ransom felt a throb of approval from the Fountain. Standing side by side with Kiskaddon, they read the small, elegant script. It was in the old speech, which Ransom had learned years ago in his training. As he read the document, he marveled at the significance of what they were doing. The king, if he stamped it with his seal, would no longer be above the law—he would be subject to the laws of the realm. The deconeus had written the terms of the Assizes too, including how justice would be meted out.
After Ransom finished reading, he looked over at Kiskaddon, who was still poring over the words. When he finished, he let out a sigh.
“If he agrees to this,” Kiskaddon said, “everything will change.”
The deconeus smiled. “I did feel the influence of the Fountain on my pen,” he said. “The charter wrote itself into existence.” He rolled up the parchment and inserted it back into the leather case, which he handed to Ransom. “My lord, I entrust this to your hands. It is your duty now to persuade the king to validate it.”
Ransom took it and slung it around his back with the strap. “I will do my best. I assume this is not the only copy?”
The deconeus smiled. “No, I had it transcribed.”
“Then summon the aldermen of the city to the sanctuary and show it to them. If the king adds his seal, we can end this conflict at once. No more threats to throw Lord Kiskaddon into the river.”
“I would greatly appreciate that,” said the duke with a chuckle.
“I’ll send word as soon as I can. Guivret will come in person.”
“Good. May better days be ahead. Go with the Fountain, Ransom.”
They parted ways, and Ransom and his knights rode through the gate, admitted by the acolyte standing guard. It was early still, and people remained indoors. The view of the Occitanian fleet down in the harbor below was a menacing sight, and the steady noise of the falls offered little comfort. Once they reached the gates of the city, they left Kingfountain behind and rode hard toward Beestone. Two knights rode ahead to alert the castellan of Beestone that they were coming.
Although the wind blew from the north with an unusual chill, and storm clouds hovered over the western skies, they kept a quick pace. Still, Guivret rode at Ransom’s side, and they were able to speak in spurts. They discussed Guivret’s time in captivity, and Ransom informed him that it was Lady Alix who had murdered Keeva. That knowledge darkened Guivret’s countenance. He hadn’t known. Lady Alix had told him she was dead but inferred that Ransom and Claire were responsible. Her Fountain magic had convinced him of the lie, just like it had convinced him that Ransom was guilty of adultery and unworthy of the title of knight.
Prior to the battle at Auxaunce, Guivret and a few other knights had been sent to protect Drew Argentine, to prevent him from being freed by the duchess or Ransom. The boy had been homesick for his mother and his duchy, but he’d managed to overcome it and find ways to be helpful and happy. But after the Occitanian prisoners were brought to Beestone, Guivret was sent away from the prince and given to Kiskaddon’s custody.
“How did you survive when all the other hostages were killed?” Ransom asked.
A look of grief flashed on Guivret’s face. “I was part of the duke’s household by that time,” he explained. “Not a prisoner. On the day the Espion came to murder me, the duke felt something was amiss. One of the castle servants had died that day of a bleeding ulcer. His corpse had been laid out in a canoe. The Espion didn’t know what I looked like, so when Kiskaddon told them I’d died that day, they were shown the dead body of another man. The Espion fell for the trick, and I’ve been in disguise ever since.”
“Thank the Lady,” Ransom said in astonishment.
“Aye. If that chap hadn’t died, I would not be with you right now. When the duke told me of Drew’s death, I felt such a rage. I was willing to murder the king myself out of revenge.”
“Do you like serving Lord Kiskaddon?” Ransom asked.